


Easy A

by seidrade



Series: WIPs [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bottom Loki (Marvel), Bottom Thor (Marvel), Dirty Talk, Dirty Talk in Nordic Languages, Loki and Thor Are Not Related, M/M, Mild Humiliation, Mild S&M, More tags to be added, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Power Dynamics, Praise Kink, Professor Loki (Marvel), Pushy Thor, Semi-Public Sex, Sexting, Student Thor (Marvel), Teacher-Student Relationship, They're both versatile lads, abuse of google translate, hot for teacher
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-01 20:02:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19184635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seidrade/pseuds/seidrade
Summary: Covert after-hours blowjobs, sexting nudes to his 36-year-old professor, dirty talk in Old Norse, and a flimsy pink tank top...Thor doesn't care about getting A's. He'll gladly take the D.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, another WIP from the archives! My apologies to any Norwegian Bokmål speakers— my knowledge of Bokmål and Old Norse is piecemeal, so this is all Google Translate and/or my best dodgy attempts at translation. Some of you may recognize who I primarily based Loki's career path on... ahem.
> 
> Thanks to the gremlins and especially to [Raven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenbringslight/) for looking this over for me some ages ago, and for suggesting the following summary, which I have co-opted heavily: "Thor finds out the fun way that getting the D does not in fact get you the A. Not that he's complaining."
> 
> All mistakes are mine.

_xx_

“Dr. Laufeyson.”

Loki looked up from his laptop, tearing his attention away from the latest email regarding a conference in Copenhagen he was still debating whether to attend. 

Ah, of course. He’d been expecting this.

Thor Odinson was camped out in the doorframe of his office; not quite entering Loki’s domain, but looking oddly confident for someone who had barely pulled off a C- this term. He was dressed for the warm May weather, tanned collegiate muscles peeking out from his dusty pink tank top— if it could even be called a top. The garment was cut so low at the sides that Loki could see where the boy’s broad back tapered to a narrow waist. The jut of his hip and the definition of his obliques were on full display.

Loki absently bit the inside of his lip. 

It wasn't his fault, he wanted to say. Anyone would do the same. 

He wasn't made of stone, after all— the kid was exceptionally well built, with his wavy golden hair and short scruffy beard and enviable arms. Loki could even grudgingly admit he had rather nice eyes, not to mention an arsenal of grins that would turn most any sentient being into a lustful cretin.

But Loki had never let his eyes wander with any real intent. He prided himself in being better than that. Six semesters of Thor Odinson wafting under his nose, watching him grow taller and firmer, seeing him ripen into the delectable peach standing in his doorway… and Loki had never so much tried to take a bite. 

Oh, he _might_ have noticed the boy’s ass in passing— he’d probably seen Thor leave his classroom hundreds of times over the last few years. And it was even true that the thought of those muscular thighs wrapped around his hips had fueled a late night masturbation session or three, before he’d decided he wouldn't be able to look Thor in the eye if he allowed himself to continue.

But soon, whether he liked it or not, his bittersweet torment would be coming to an end. Because Thor was graduating. 

Loki took a slow inhale through his nose before putting on a tight but adequately pleasant smile and interlacing his fingers above his keyboard. 

“Mr. Odinson. What can I help you with?” 

He didn’t gesture to a chair— didn’t particularly want to invite a long, drawn-out visit. He wasn't mentally prepared to deal with Thor’s state of semi-nudity for more than five minutes.

“Are you ever gonna call me by my first name?” Thor asked rhetorically, amused as ever by Loki’s ongoing formality. He gave Loki a winning smile then entered the office proper, shutting the door behind him. Loki watched with keen eyes as he slung his backpack on the seat but remained standing, leaning on the bookshelf to the side of Loki’s desk, crossing his legs casually.

Ah, so that’s how it was going to be. This was new. Usually Thor just took the chair… 

“Anyway… it’s about my Linguistics grade,” Thor began, and Loki immediately held up a hand to stop him.

It was beyond him why the boy had taken his Old Norse Linguistics course after just barely scraping through the introductory Lit seminar. 

Over the last few years, Thor had doggedly worked his way through nearly all of Loki’s Norwegian language and basic Norse mythology courses, so it wasn't any great _surprise_ , but the question remained as to why he was even in Loki’s department to begin with. 

The kid was a star athlete, as far as Loki knew, and he hadn’t declared a Scandinavian Studies minor— just kept on using up his elective credits and coming back for more punishment. He’d started out just fine in his sophomore mythology class, and he’d even been alright at Norwegian language studies, but as he’d progressed into the upper level courses, Thor’s grades had steadily fallen lower and lower as he struggled with the material.

Loki wasn’t even getting a sadistic thrill marking up his papers anymore. 

If anything, Thor’s frequent office visits this last semester had been an exercise in masochism. He was the only student to take full advantage of open office hours, and to say he was a test to Loki’s self control was putting it somewhat mildly. The sight of that tousled blonde head popping in through his door had become a harbinger of doom. Loki often caught himself gripping his pen too tight, or else catching himself being unnecessarily curt with the boy during their weekly sessions. He frequently went home with a headache from clenching his jaw. Yet the thought of turning Thor over to his TA and denying himself this torment seemed unimaginable.

Honestly, it was a wonder Thor had continued to come to Loki for help, given how surly he must have so often seemed. Thor’s cheerful personality kept things light and easy for the most part, and his humor was a decent compliment to Loki’s own, so it was never truly a burden to be in his company. 

But there were times when Loki had sensed the energy in the room shifting in a way that he wasn’t prepared to acknowledge. When he’d turned to write something on the whiteboard and felt Thor’s eyes on his back. The few times when Thor looked as if he’d been about to say something on his way out, then ducked out the door in silence.

If Loki could just get through this final visit unscathed, perhaps he’d be able to breathe properly once again.

“I’ve done all I can. The grade you received is the grade you earned, Mr. Odinson,” he rebutted, wondering how well Thor was going to take this. Even the most easy-going student had to crack sooner or later.

“Just Thor,” his blonde tormentor corrected, not phased in the slightest. “And don’t worry, I’m not here to try and change it. I just wanted to explain it to you. So you didn’t get the wrong idea.”

Loki blinked, then sat back in his chair just a little, pushing up his reading glasses. “Explain it to me?” he repeated, unconvinced. “What do you believe needs explaining? I am more than aware of the hours of study you put in, but ultimately your performance must speak for itself. And it's fairly on par with your grades in the last several courses.”

Thor shook his head a little. “Yeah, but there's more to me than my work. And besides, I bet you're probably wondering why I’m still here...” He crossed his well-muscled arms and grinned. “Considering we already said goodbye in class.”

Loki was torn. He’d been very careful not to ask too much about Thor’s personal life, or even his academic life— keenly aware of how quickly he could inadvertently start down a slippery path. But today was the last Wednesday of the term, and Thor’s final class with him had been that morning. Thor had shaken his hand, lingering, and Loki had wondered if it was truly the last he’d be seeing of him. Somehow, after so many years, it didn’t seem possible that Thor would just up and leave— and it looked like he’d been right.

Despite himself, Loki _was_ curious.

“Alright then. I’ll bite.” Loki closed his laptop, turning more fully toward his wayward student. “Enlighten me, then. Why have you continued to labor in these fruitless endeavors? Taking my courses has clearly not helped your grade point average. Why endanger your scholarships— I presume you have at least one?”

Thor shrugged an easy shoulder. “My GPA’s fine. Honestly, I just found your classes fascinating. I don’t have to get perfect grades to get something out of them. Wouldn’t you agree?” Something in his expression struck Loki as a little odd— a little too intent. It set off some tiny alarm in the back of his mind.

He ignored it for now, giving a small, taut frown in response. 

“What, exactly, do you believe you’re getting out of them?” He dared to ask.

Thor uncrossed his arms, focused on Loki more intently. 

“I think you know.”

Loki felt a prickling sensation up and down his spine at those words. Adrenaline. Anticipation. 

_Goddamnit_ , Thor. 

“Mr. Odinson…” he said in warning, feeling his pulse ticking upward, but the boy was undeterred.

“I like your voice. I like listening to you speak,” Thor continued, moving closer and leaning against the side of Loki’s desk. “You’re kind of a cold bastard at first. Hard to get a read on. But you get so enthusiastic when you’re lecturing, it’s like watching this whole new person come out.” He raised a eyebrow, mouth curling into a proper grin. “Plus, you’re funny as hell and you don’t take shit from anyone. I’m into it.” He had the audacity to bite his lip, looking at Loki like he wanted to say a whole lot more than that.

Loki took a deep breath through his nose, sitting up a little straighter in his chair. He could feel his heart in his throat. This was… not good.

“Mr. Odinson, if you’re as observant as you claim, then you’ll be well aware that your obvious attempts at flattery are not going to win you any favors with me. The grades have been submitted, the course has come to an end. There’s nothing more I can do for you.”

“Just Thor’s fine,” Thor said again, tilting his head with a charming grin that Loki imagined had carried him through many situations. “And I’m not flattering you. I’m explaining why I decided it was worth it to nearly fail several semesters in a row just so I could keep seeing you. I like the way you teach, I like that you challenge me, and I just… I _like_ you. It’s been three years. I’ve watched nearly all your Youtube videos and taken nearly all your classes and I’m still not bored.”

Loki met his eyes with a frown, not entirely approving of the quiet confidence in that piercing gaze. As if Thor could see right through him. His pride bristled in defense. The kid let his GPA slip because of a crush, barely scraped through Loki’s courses, then thought he would just waltz in here like God’s gift to the Scandinavian department? Like all he had to do was offer his attentions and Loki would fall gratefully at his feet? 

Not if Loki had anything to say about it.

“That’s all very well and good, but I’m afraid your interest is misplaced. And I’ll remind you that it’s a violation of a very long and boring waiver you signed upon enrollment at this university to proposition your professors.”

“But you’re not my professor anymore,” Thor pointed out. “The course is over.” 

Loki stood, pushing back his chair. Placing it somewhat between them as a buffer.

He would not be pushed around by this would-be catamite, this nonsensical boy who must be— god, easily fourteen, fifteen years his junior?

“Mr. Odinson, splitting hairs is not going to help your case.”

“There’s no case,” Thor replied easily, standing as well. 

Loki wasn’t a small man, but Thor was a good deal broader, and this close, he was tall enough that Loki had to tilt his chin up to look him in the eye. It sent a little pang of want through him, which he attempted to tamp down before it became too obvious.

“I know you’ve never understood why I kept coming back,” Thor said, eyes narrowed as he seemed to search Loki’s face with intent. “But I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen you looking every time I come in here after hours. Trying to figure me out. You’re as curious as I am.”

“I’m afraid you’re quite mistaken,” Loki said, stiffly, putting his hands on his hips to keep his hands from fidgeting. “And furthermore—“

“You’re afraid that I’m right,” Thor countered, stepping forward around the chair and into his space— not enough to be threatening, but enough that Loki felt his presence solidify the air between them. He very intentionally kept his eyes steady, trained on Thor’s, not wanting to yield any ground despite his elevated pulse.

He backed up a few inches anyway. “Mr. Odinson—”

“You can't tell me you haven't noticed.” Thor raised his brows, claiming those inches for himself. “There’s wishful thinking and then there's _chemistry_. I know the difference.”

“I assure you, you're very much mistaken and you need to let this fixation go,” Loki said, firmly. Trying desperately to hang onto his last shred of professionalism and cursing his inherent weakness for confidence, even borderline-arrogance. And… god, this close, he realized that Thor smelled unfairly good. He smelled of summer, like the faint coconut and vanilla and spice of tanning oil.

He never should have started posting his lectures online; this wasn’t the first time a student had taken to obsessing over him and it surely wouldn’t be the last. But the extra income and freelancing opportunities it had netted him were hard to walk away from. And deep down, he was strangely pleased at the thought that Thor had supposedly watched them all… 

Shoving that unhelpful thought down, Loki cleared his throat. “It’s not uncommon to develop feelings for authority figures, especially in an academic setting, but I assure you, there's nothing here to notice.”

“Then why’re you so flustered right now?” Thor objected, more amused than accusative. “And why’d you look like you wanted to eat me alive when I first walked in?”

“Thor, you are barking up the wrong tree,” Loki said, firmly. Trying not to panic. Had he really looked at Thor with such open longing? Damn it.

“So you do know my name,” Thor teased, but he didn’t look smug at Loki’s slip. Instead, he appeared genuinely pleased. “It sounds nice, the way you say it. Honestly, you’d make the phonebook sound nice.”

Loki swore under his breath, rubbing the bridge of his nose beneath his reading glasses before realizing he may as well just take them off.

“Whatever pickup artist you’ve been following, I think you really ought to ditch them,” he said seriously, meeting Thor’s eyes again and trying desperately to reroute the conversation. “Honestly, you want my advice? You’re a damned college athlete, this is not the time of your life to be pursuing haggard professors some fifteen years your senior. There will be plenty of time for that later. Get out there and enjoy your age-appropriate prospects while you can; you’d be surprised how quickly time will pass you by.”

“Is that how you feel?” Thor asked— unnervingly, infuriatingly gentle. “That you’re letting time pass you by?”

Loki’s lips thinned into a line. “We are not discussing my personal life.”

“Because there’s nothing to discuss?” Thor asked, not as cruelly as he could have. “You’ve never mentioned a husband or a wife or a boyfriend or anything— not in the whole time I’ve known you. I know you work overtime outside of teaching, not just because half the time you’re here tutoring me or someone else. And you’re always publishing and traveling and lecturing, aren’t you? When d’you ever cut loose?”

Loki laughed, shaking his head and tucking back a loose strand of hair that had fallen out of his bun at some point. “Ohh, no. No, no. I’m not taking advice from a student who’s nearly failed half my classes.” There was a part of him that honestly, truly admired the balls on the kid, but Thor didn’t need to know that. ”That’s not how it works.”

“Since when do you care about how things are supposed to work?” Thor countered. “And I’m not trying to give you advice, I’m honestly just curious.” 

He backed up and sat down in Loki’s chair, clearly unable to resist a little grin as he did so. “You, uh… you always just seem a little _pent up_ to me.”

Loki tried to avoid giving him the satisfaction of a reaction to his clear provocation. He chose instead to lean against the far edge of his desk, a good arm’s reach away from Thor.

The kid knew Loki wasn’t going to report him for this— Loki had never made any secret of his utter disdain for collegiate bureaucracy. So perhaps it was time to hit him where it hurt. Dispel this school boy crush before he started sending flowers and chocolate to Loki’s office. Before Loki was tempted to endanger everything he’d worked so hard to build.

“So you think you’re the one to swoop in and save me from myself, is that it?” he asked, wryly. “You think a _boy_ of, what, twenty, has anything to offer me?” He allowed himself a laugh, seeing in Thor’s eyes that his blow landed, though the kid otherwise kept a straight face. “Trust me, you wouldn’t be able to keep up.” 

Thor straightened his back a little, crossing his arms, but Loki didn’t leave him time to reply.

“And I’ll even let you in on a secret, since we’re having this little heart to heart. You want my advice? Don’t put older men on a pedestal.” He leveled Thor with a pointed look. “Anyone my age and above who’s interested in a boy like you? They only want two things— actually, no, make it three.” 

Thor raised his eyebrows, his mouth curling in slight challenge. “I’m listening.”

Loki sniffed, dismissive of Thor’s attitude. “They want blind adoration from someone inexperienced enough to overlook their faults,” he began. “They want to mold some sweet young thing in their image, because they’re insecure and unable to attract someone older and wiser with higher standards. _And_ , let us not forget, they leap at the chance to sleep with any vision of youth who allows them to ignore that they’re sliding ever closer to death.” 

“I mean, isn't that what we're all doing?” Thor objected.

Loki’s mouth turned up at the corner. “Trust me,” he asserted, disdain coloring his voice once more. “It gets worse as they get older. You don’t want to be stuck babysitting a grown man who should have his shit together.”

Thor was smiling again; a golden, radiant thing that Loki wished he didn’t like. “Yeah, but if you’re willing to admit all that, kinda makes me think it doesn’t really apply to you. I’m the one pursuing you, after all.”

“First of all, you are not pursuing because there’s nothing _to_ pursue. Second, you don’t know that,” Loki challenged, crossing his arms. “I could be saying all of this purely to manipulate you.”

“Well, I know you’ve got your shit together. I’m literally standing here trying to loosen you up.” Thor’s tongue darted out, ever so briefly wetting his lips. “And you’re not that much older than me.” 

“I’m thirty-six, that’s plenty older.”

“Only fifteen years’ difference. I’d say it’s pretty ideal.” Thor’s grin was annoyingly cheeky, but god, he did just have _something_ about him, didn’t he? Loki shoved the unwanted notion back down where it belonged.

“You can’t trust that people aren’t going to say anything and everything to get into your pants and twist you ‘round their finger. Especially if you make it this easy for them.” Loki found himself grimacing at how simple it would be to completely destroy a young boy like this, were he another kind of man. A strange surge of protectiveness gripped him. “You’ve got to be smarter than that.”

“Would _you_ say anything to get into my pants?” Thor asked, cheekily. “I’m really not as easy as I look. Just for you.”

Loki gave a brief, harsh laugh despite himself. Thor was looking quite relaxed in Loki’s chair, legs spread just wide enough that Loki could see a bit of toned, inner thigh beneath the hem of his faded black denim cut-offs. He quickly glanced away.

“I hope you’re not planning on occupying my chair for too much longer. I have work to be doing, as you’re no doubt aware.” It was hard to keep the stern tone in his voice— Thor was like a stray dog that Loki didn't want to feed, but couldn't help feeling bad neglecting.

“Just answer me this,” Thor asked in a serious tone, turning the chair from side to side a bit. His eyes were keen on Loki’s. “You’re not even a little curious? About what it’d be like to say ‘fuck it’ and cut loose for once? I think you’re underestimating me.”

Loki tilted his head. “I promise you, I’m not,” he half lied. “And you think I’ve never been twenty years old before? In case there was any chance of me forgetting, I’m still around hundreds of you lot every week. I know how your minds work.”

Before he could clock what was happening, Thor was rising up from the chair, crossing the short distance to where Loki was half-sitting on the desk. He nudged in close enough between his legs that Loki was forced to look up at him, and… oh.

Thor’s hand curled around the back of his neck and Loki was frozen, stupefied. He hadn’t thought Thor would actually _dare_ —

“I’m full of surprises,” rumbled Thor, and gone was the easy, boyish manner. His massive hand framed Loki’s entire jaw, a firm thumb on his cheek. “And that’s what you want, isn’t it? You want a challenge, too. You want someone to push all your buttons. Remind you what you’ve been missing...”

When had his voice gotten so deep, Loki wondered, but held himself still. Resisting, he thought. He was simply resisting leaning into Thor’s touch. But then, why not actually push Thor away…?

“Just let me take care of you,” Thor urged, leaning in closer so Loki could taste his breath. “God, you don’t even know how much you burn me up. I just wanna make you feel good. You’re so fucking hot, Loki.”

Damn. 

Heat spread through Loki’s body like wildfire at hearing Thor say his name, at the filthy simplicity of his words. He felt like he was moving in slow motion, locked in a moral and physical quagmire while Thor was nimbly racing ahead— already proving him wrong. 

“I don’t—“

“Let me suck you off.” Thor cut him off, low and confident, eyes dropping to Loki’s lips before staring back into him. “I wanna know what you taste like. Wanna get your cock so far down my throat, you forget your own name.”

Loki tried to take a steadying inhale, which was difficult when his body was overriding his mind, all systems _go_ , all roads leading straight to his dick. He hated to admit that if he were getting laid more often, this perhaps wouldn’t feel so tempting.

Thor wasn’t wasting any time, working his fingers up to the base of Loki’s skull, rubbing into his scalp, and Loki’s eyes instinctively slipped shut for a moment, the smallest moan escaping him. 

Oh, this was definitely not good.

“Feels nice, huh?” Thor’s words taunted him, though his voice was quiet and intimate— a low rasping rumble that Loki shouldn't have found so attractive. “You look so goddamn sexy like this. I wanna find all the spots that make you moan like that.” He slid his hand down to Loki’s jaw, rubbing the pad of his thumb across Loki’s bottom lip. “God, Loki. I just wanna fucking wreck you.”

Loki made eye contact with him then. Which was a mistake, he realized a moment too late. Because the look in Thor’s eyes was so intent, so full of need, so _deliriously_ arousing, that Loki was suddenly having a very hard time remembering all the very good reasons not to fucking do this.

Thor pushed the tip of his thumb between Loki’s parted lips, and oh. _Fuck._

Loki realized, with a surge of desire in his veins and a sinking feeling in his stomach, that he had already lost. 

He took Thor’s thumb between his teeth, met the boy’s eyes again. Saw the surprise there. The little flare of hope.

“Lock the door,” Loki murmured, eyes narrowing, trying not to react when Thor’s face lit up and he drew back his hand. “And flip the sign to ‘back in fifteen.’ That’s all you get.”

“I can do a lot in fifteen,” Thor winked, and then he was gone for a blessed moment. Loki rested more of his weight against the edge of the desk, focusing on remembering how to breathe.

Was he seriously going to do this? Let Thor suck him off in his own damned office? How had that even become an option? (Then again… how had he truly believed he would escape this unscathed. Nothing in his life ever worked that way.)

Thor was back before he could finish contemplating, sliding a hand from his knee to mid-thigh. The other hand was back at Loki’s jaw, as if drawn by a magnet. God, he had such big hands. Another of Loki’s greatest weaknesses. 

“Would you stop me if I kissed you?” Thor asked, low and husky, and Loki knew the desire would be all too easy to read on his face when he met Thor’s gaze.

“One way to find out,” he replied, signing his own death warrant, and then Thor’s eyes were lighting up and he was leaning in to claim Loki’s mouth, lips warm on his. 

He was a skilled kisser, that much was clear. Obviously not lacking for practice. As soon as Loki’s mouth opened, Thor’s tongue was slipping between his lips, chasing the kiss, taking it deeper. After a (toe-curling, heart-pounding) minute of this, Loki pushed back until their tongues were sliding together inside Thor’s mouth. 

If he was going to be depraved, at least he could be in control.

But Thor soon elicited another groan from him by kneading and squeezing his thigh, dangerously close to where his cock was trapped stiff inside his tight trousers. 

Loki found himself fisting the front of Thor’s stupid tank top, pulling him closer. He growled when Thor’s hand pressed over his erection, the pressure and friction already enough to make him antsy. Thor hadn’t come up for air yet, kissing him like he meant to get Loki off through his tongue alone.

When he finally pulled back, they stared at each other; wild eyed, chests rising and falling in uncanny near-unison. Loki licked his bottom lip, Thor keenly tracking the motion. He watched Loki’s face carefully as he teased the outline of Loki’s cock through the twill fabric. Loki felt his nostrils flare despite his intention to regain control of his face— and of the situation.

“Aren’t you going to kneel,” he said, quiet and firm, tilting his head meaningfully. 

He thought, not for the first time, that the corners of Thor’s lips looked as if they were constantly smiling. Indeed, one side of the boy’s mouth twitched as he obeyed, sinking to his bare knees on the hard, low-pile carpet. Loki realized they would be red when Thor left the office. Wondered how much he cared.

Thor reached for Loki’s belt, starting to undo it before Loki brushed his hand away, unbuckling it himself in quick, efficient movements. He opened his fly and drew down the zip, untucking his shirt and fully unbuttoning it to keep it out of the way; if he was doing this, he was damn well going to see every second of it. Today’s shirt was a dark eggplant color and he hadn’t bothered with an undershirt, a fact that Thor seemed to appreciate as his eyes roamed over Loki’s torso.

Loki pushed his trousers down to mid-thigh, then slowly edged down his black briefs, until his cock was all but ready to spring free. Then he paused to roll up and cuff his sleeves below the elbow, taking his time with this part. Thor’s eyes flicked from his cock to his hands to his face, his own large hands resting on Loki’s legs above his knees. He looked eager, but not stupid. He would wait.

Satisfied that his sleeves wouldn’t be in the way, Loki let his attention return to his cock, which was plenty eager to be set loose.

“Pull them down,” he instructed Thor, then tsked when Thor’s hands began to move. “No. With your teeth.”

Thor’s eyes snapped up to his, and it was clear despite his bravado of earlier that he liked where this was going. Being told what to do. Wasn’t that half the fantasy, after all?

Thor leaned in to nose at him through the cotton, inhaling deeply. Loki’s cock swelled in response and he could see a glimpse of Thor’s grin before he delicately took the stretched fabric in his teeth and pulled up and back, Loki’s cock smearing a bead of pre come across his cheek when it sprang free. Judging by the face he made, Thor didn’t mind this in the least. 

Loki deigned to let him use his hands to pull the briefs down the rest of the way, and then Thor was burying his nose in the crease of Loki’s thigh and moaning. Loki was a stickler for grooming but he usually left a thatch of cropped dark curls right above his cock, and Thor was clearly a fan. 

Thor took his dick in hand and licked around the base, tongue dipping down to Loki’s balls, sending a frisson of pleasure through Loki’s lower spine.

“God, I knew you’d be big,” Thor breathed. “Those tight fucking pants you always wear.” He licked the shaft of Loki’s dick to lubricate it before he gave a few approving strokes. “Damn, you taste good too.”

Loki knew he was flushed with the attention, but still, he couldn’t help huffing with dry amusement at how eager and talkative Thor was. Not trying to play it cool anymore, it would seem.

“Did you ever pay attention in class,” he wondered aloud. “Or were you just fantasizing about my cock the entire time?”

Thor looked up, seriously, stroking Loki’s dick with one hand and fondling his balls with the other. “Profeten min er veldig vakker,” He said, in a surprisingly decent accent. “Jeg vil smake og berøre ham hele tiden til han kommer i munnin min.” _My professor is very beautiful. I will taste and touch him all over until he comes in my mouth._

Barely a stutter. Not the most natural syntax, however, and so well-rehearsed that Loki didn’t buy it for a moment. Thor’s pronunciation had always been passable, but he certainly wasn’t conversational in Bokmål. 

Loki raised an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side and wondering how long it’d taken Thor to memorize. The thought of him practicing such filth was its own surprising little thrill. The thought that he wanted to swallow was another.

“Hmm… now where did you learn that? Google Translate?”

Thor just waggled his brows before turning his full attention back to Loki’s cock, taking it into his mouth to avoid answering. Loki inhaled, deep and slow, allowing himself to give into the pleasure more fully; now that he was past the point of no return, he may as well get the most out of it.

And he had to admit— it was sort of stupidly charming how much effort the kid had gone to, all in the hopes of seducing him. (Was it really, though? Perhaps he was going soft in his old age.)

“Jeg håper du er bedre på sugende kuk enn du studerer,” Loki murmured, letting some huskiness creep into his voice, keeping his sentence structure simple enough that Thor might be able to understand him. _I hope you’re better at sucking cock than you are at studying._

He saw the breath Thor took around his dick, the way his eyelids fluttered closed for a moment. Yes, he understood. That, or he really wasn’t kidding about having a thing for Loki’s voice. 

After that, Thor’s enthusiasm meant it didn’t take long before Loki was holding the edge of the desk, bracing his hips— it was taking all his willpower to not just grab Thor by the hair and rut into his mouth. He imagined Thor would enjoy it, based on what he’d said earlier, but Loki wasn’t about to lose control for his sake.

Thor tilted his face, changing his angle to get Loki further down his throat. He was taking Loki’s whole length now— admirably well, considering what Loki had to work with. He savored the tight slick of Thor’s throat; his clever, coaxing tongue. The gorgeous look on his face, so full of lust. Such hunger, for a boy already being so well fed. 

If Loki glanced further down, he could see the eager erection taut in Thor’s shorts, but Thor kept both hands on Loki, evidently determined to ignore his own pleasure. He choked, briefly, and Loki couldn’t help a groan at the spasm of Thor’s throat, at the filthy noises he made. His hands tightened on the edge of the desk.

“Du latterlig gutt. Så du vil at jeg kommer inn i halsen din, er det sant?” _You ridiculous boy. So it’s true, you want me to come in your throat?_

Thor moaned around him in response, saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth into his scruff. Loki felt himself inching closer. He couldn’t help goading him, feeling suddenly reckless. 

“Ja, jeg tror du vil la meg knulle deg på dette skrivebordet mitt,” he murmured under his breath, not sure how much Thor would understand. “Kanskje du vil be om det.“ 

_Yes, I think you’d even let me fuck you on my desk. Perhaps you’ll beg for it._

But then Thor’s gaze locked into his and his nostrils flared and Loki knew he’d possibly said too much. He found just as quickly that he didn’t care.

Thor redoubled his efforts, caressing and playing with him even as he swallowed Loki deep, enough to make him choke again. Loki bit his lip to try and keep quiet. The tears glittering at the corners of Thor’s deep-set eyes were horribly arousing.

And, as it turned out, despite his own lack of fluency, Thor’s tongue was well suited for wringing praise in Old Norse from Loki’s mouth.

“Mmm… góðr sveinn,” he breathed as Thor pulled off his cock to lick at his balls, sucking them one by one into his mouth. “Góðr sveinn.” _Good boy._

The moan Thor let out around his mouthful of flesh was so glorious that Loki finally gave in, letting one of his hands seek out those blonde locks and weave into them, tightening, even as he hushed Thor.

“Stille, støyende gutt. _Quiet, noisy boy._ You must keep quiet.”

He rocked his hips forward and Thor gave him a look that was all fire. He released Loki’s sac with a soft pop and dove back down onto his cock, sucking deep. His hands came up to grip Loki’s hip bones, urging him to repeat the motion.

Loki gave it to him again, Thor once more angling his head so he could slip easily down his throat. The boy’s blue eyes fell closed, bliss written in the lines of his brow; the shine of freshly-fallen tears on his cheeks, those pink lips so soft and plump around Loki’s girth.

Loki bit his own lip, letting his eyes roam freely over the entire scene before him. Over the defined lines of Thor’s golden shoulders, dusted in freckles. His thick but dexterous fingers. The way his hair curled obligingly into Loki’s fist; how his cheekbones hollowed when he teased Loki with suction. The way his nostrils flared every time Loki murmured an encouragement.

He wasn’t sure if he’d done something terribly good or terribly bad in a past life, but god, he certainly wasn’t complaining.

Thor’s hands began to wander. Soon, he had coaxed Loki to standing and was kneading his ass. Loki fisted his hair ever harder and rolled his hips against Thor’s face. He wasn’t going to last much longer like this, watching Thor moan around his cock like it was his goddamn birthday present.

And then Thor’s hands were spreading him— not touching anywhere sensitive yet, just enough to let Loki know that he _could_. It sent a pang of desire hot through him, a sudden reminder of how exposed they were, how anyone could come knocking on that door just to see if he was in—

Loki thrust forward harder into Thor’s mouth than he intended. Thor choked beautifully, then pulled back with a low, lusty groan. 

“Stille,” Loki shushed him. “Stille, du er så dårlig.” _Quiet, you’re being so bad._ Though no sooner had he admonished then he was half moaning himself, Thor having swallowed him down to the root, angling his face to bury his nose in Loki’s pubic hair once more. It was every bit as unspeakably arousing the second time around.

“I’m getting close,” Loki warned as Thor pulled back just enough to breathe, fingers tightening on Loki’s ass and encouraging him to keep thrusting. “Ahh…yes, just like that.”

Thor hummed in acknowledgment, letting his fingertips drift down until they were brushing over Loki’s entrance, making him all but growl.

“Fuck,” he swore, wanting more friction, more everything. “Jeg kan ikke tro at jeg lar deg gjøre dette. Mmm, fuck... Jeg er så nær.” _I can’t believe I let you do this… I’m so close._

Loki forced himself to hold Thor’s gaze as he felt Thor’s finger pressing harder, nearly enough to penetrate if only he were a little more forceful, those large hands molded to Loki’s ass and hips as he fucked into that clever mouth, and Loki felt his orgasm mounting, cresting fast and glorious and sudden, and he couldn’t stop—

“Thor, I’m—“ he managed, trying to tug Thor’s face off, but Thor doubled down and swallowed, his teasing finger slipping just past Loki’s rim. 

Loki moaned and came hard into Thor’s waiting mouth, teeth clenched in pleasure. He tried to make his eyes focus on the glorious view before him—Thor swallowing the first couple spurts before pulling back to catch the rest on his tongue and lips, holding Loki’s cock steady at the base. He kept his eyes on Loki the entire time. 

Loki gasped, sudden and open-mouthed, as Thor milked him through the very last of it, then dipped down to suck at him again, as if he couldn’t get enough. His lips still glistened with Loki’s come. 

Oh god. That image wasn’t going to leave him anytime soon. 

Thor released him and finally licked his mouth clean, that clever pink tongue seeking every last drop. He gave Loki a little wink, ducking back down to lave over the head of Loki’s softening cock, kissing it until Loki hissed with overstimulation and batted him away.

The kid beamed up at him, clearly unabashed and pleased with himself. As he stood— with barely a wince— Loki tried to catch his breath and prepare himself to counter any further excuses as to why Thor should be allowed to remain longer. Which would be so much easier if he wasn't currently floating on cloud nine.

And then Thor was clearing his well-used throat, crossing his arms in front of himself and meeting Loki’s gaze.

“Ef ek vil ins halr mans,” he began, deep voice rasping from their activities, and Loki’s eyes widened. “Hafa geð allt ok gaman, hugi ek hverfi; hvítarmri seiðmanni,” Thor continued, a little pleased grin sneaking onto his face. “Ok sný ek hans öllum sefa.”

_If I wish to have all the joy and pleasure of a great man, I turn the feelings of the white-armed sorcerer and I change his mind._

Loki took a deep inhale then let out a low whistle, mind whirring in disbelief. 

This gorgeous boy had altered a stanza of Loki’s favorite poem in the entire Old Norse canon and recited it to him as dirty poetry after sucking his cock like a professional. That alone was astounding, but heaven help him, listening to Thor’s fucked-out voice mouthing those ancient words with their round vowels and rolled r’s was an entirely new level of eroticism.

He only realized he’d been staring without saying anything when Thor’s mouth twitched into a slightly nervous smile.

“I… that was beautifully done, Thor.” Loki managed to say, as his wits finally began to return. “With the proper declension and everything. I… I’m rather speechless.”

Thor’s face was radiant, though he was clearly trying not to show his pleasure at Loki’s words. “Good,” he replied. “That’s what I was hoping for.”

Loki wet his lips. “Though I will say… it’s odd, isn’t it, that you never managed such a clever adaptation in class?” He tilted his head, fixing Thor with a shrewd gaze. 

A pinkish cast settled upon Thor’s cheeks and ears. He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck with a boyish shrug, even as his grin grew dangerously playful. 

“I was just saving it for the right moment.” His eyes darted up to catch Loki’s and… oh god, was he ever beautiful. 

Loki realized he wanted to throw him down and cover him in bites and taste him everywhere. Not just a one-off suck. Not just an abstract fantasy. He wanted Thor in the flesh, again and again; wanted to strip him bare and claim his ass, his neck, his lips. Wanted to hold him down and make him sob; take him to his limits, then kiss away his tears and bring him slowly back to earth, gentle and firm. Just the way he’d need it. Wanted to show him things he’d never known before— wanted to see his eyes light up in pleasure, see him edged halfway to hell and burning with raw, unadulterated lust. 

Hell, he even wanted to _hold_ Thor after, which he never normally did. Make him feel good and safe. Let him know just who he could rely on to take care of him.

It had been a long time since he’d had entertained any such notions. Normally it was him on the receiving end of the scenario, but he could easily imagine that too— teaching Thor how to fuck him just right. Just how he liked it. Thor would surely be an eager student in that regard…

Loki vehemently forced the useless, disconcerting notions away, tugging his briefs up. Tucked himself back in before returning his trousers to their normal, fastened state. That task completed, he ran a hand through his hair, then pretended to pick some lint off his thigh. Fuck. He was fidgeting. 

He could feel Thor's gaze on him but didn't meet his eyes— instead choosing to glance toward Thor’s cock, still hard in those tight denim cutoffs.

“I suppose you’re hoping for a little something in return,” he said, and it came out harsher than he meant it to.

Thor laughed, seeming oddly pleased at Loki’s wary tone. “Oh… I can save this for next time,” he assured. “Those fifteen minutes were all for you.” 

Loki couldn’t help a wry arch of his brow. Tried to ignore the lingering heat in his veins at the husky tones coming from Thor’s well-used throat. At the thought of how much he wanted there to be a next time. “I’ve barely buttoned up my trousers and you’re already planning another rendezvous,” he mused, leaning back against the desk and tilting his head to stare up at Thor. “Rather presumptuous.”

Thor just licked his lips, letting his gaze wander down Loki’s partly-exposed torso. “Is it?” he asked, moving in closer to slip a hand between the open halves of Loki’s shirt, splaying his fingers over Loki’s abdomen. “I just think I’m not half-bad at reading you.”

Loki took a slow inhale, recalling the feeling of those broad hands on his ass, kneading and toying with him. Fuck, but he still wanted those thick fingers deep inside him… 

True to his word, Thor seemed to be reading him entirely too well. He gave a soft, knowing grin as he brought his other hand to Loki’s torso, framing his waist before running them up to his rib cage and down once more. Thumbs settling into the indents of Loki’s lower abdomen— taking his measure.

“We can meet up somewhere else, you know. I’m not _just_ in it for the thrill of getting caught,” Thor murmured, eyes dropping to Loki’s lips. 

“No?” Loki gave a disbelieving huff, trying not to visibly react to Thor’s entirely too intimate touch— to him gently reaching up and thumbing over a nipple. “Could’ve fooled me.”

God, he shouldn’t still be this responsive after he’d just come. He’d never been fond of being touched right after sex. And yet.

Thor didn’t say anything, just leaned in to kiss him again, warm hands settling on his hips. Gripping with ill-concealed desire. 

And Loki let him, if only because he decided he needed to taste himself on Thor’s tongue. Smell his own scent clinging to Thor’s scruff. He knew he should walk away. End it now before he let himself make a huge mistake.

Loki broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to murmur across Thor’s lips with finality. 

“Time’s up.” 

Thor chuckled under his breath, shaking his head just a little. “Alright.” He pulled his hands back, stepping away from Loki and raising his palms in supplication before running one through his hair.

“This was, uh… this was fun.” He gave an overly cheerful smile, clearly putting on his game face as he searched Loki’s face, evidently not finding what he was looking for. “I guess I'll leave you to—”

“How’s Friday?” Loki interrupted, bidding his sanity farewell. 

It was worth it to savor the moment that comprehension dawned on Thor’s face, his eyes suddenly alight when he realized Loki’s poker face had been just that.

“Friday’s… good.” Thor said, slow and cautious despite the smile fighting its way into his face. “Friday’s real good.” He shoved his hands into his back pockets, licking his lips. 

Loki gave him the barest hint of a smile, just a small curve of the lips, though he knew his own eyes were probably giving him away in turn. No chance of fooling Thor a second time. He found his gaze wandering down Thor's torso, so solid under that flimsy cotton tank top. Enjoying the sight of him still so thick and wanting in that dark denim.

“Come over to mine,” Loki said, following a whim, as he turned to the desk and grabbed a small notepad and a fountain pen. As ever, he could feel Thor’s gaze on him as he wrote his address down, followed by “8pm” and his phone number, then ripped the sheet from the pad and handed it to Thor. 

“I hope you like red wine,” he said, as nonchalant as he was able.

Thor took it, glancing over his neat writing for a moment, before holding it up to his lips and gently blowing on it to dry the ink. Their eyes met and Loki decided maybe now was a good time to button his shirt back up before he lost his resolve and just had Thor fuck _him_ over the desk right then and there. 

“I’ll be there,” Thor promised as he folded the note and slipped it into his pocket— that endearing hint of boyishness in his grin, even with the deep and seductive hint of a rasp he still had.

“I’m sure you will, ver-gjǫrn svinne.” 

_Lustful, cock-craving boy._

Thor bit his lip with a grin, not so much abashed as pleased, and seemed to lean in on impulse before catching himself just shy of kissing Loki once more. “Sorry,” he breathed, not very apologetically. “You just look so goddamn good after you've just come.”

Loki couldn't help a smirk, nor could he resist pulling him in the rest of the way, pleased at how eagerly Thor's mouth yielded to his tongue. He slid a hand into Thor's hair and tightened it against the base of Thor's skull until the boy whimpered into his mouth, then released his hair— only to slip his hand down to Thor’s cock and squeeze, feeling it thicken in his hand.

Thor gave a gratifying moan, agonized, and when Loki pulled back, he could see the aroused flush in Thor's cheeks, his eyes shining.

“Off you go then,” Loki whispered, enjoying all too much the sight of Thor groaning in playful despair as he was released from Loki’s grip. That cock was straining so appealingly against those unforgiving denim shorts. And soon, it would be his. 

“You're the worst,” Thor laughed in disbelief, his pleased body language belying his words. 

“You have terrible taste,” Loki agreed, watching Thor take a deep breath and glance around the office, trying to compose himself. “It’s an exceptionally terrible man who would make you walk out the door, looking like that.”

Thor just shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. “I wouldn't have come to you if I was looking for average cruelty.”

The unexpected wit startled a laugh out of Loki, which seemed to please Thor, if his little grin and the subconscious rub to the back of his neck was anything to go by.

“Friday,” Loki said, unable to hide his anticipation. Thor nodded, unlocking the door as he held his backpack like a shield in front of his groin.

“Friday,” he agreed, then he slipped through the door and was gone.

 

It was barely thirty minutes later that Loki’s phone vibrated with a text notification, interrupting the quiet of his office. An unfamiliar number. And there was an image attachment.

Loki bit the inside of his lip and opened the text.

It appeared two could play at being cruel.

_xx_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His text was seen almost immediately, the ellipsis showing Thor was typing quick to pop up. Loki felt a delicious tension at the base of his throat, humming in his chest. 
> 
> He hadn’t felt this exhilarated— this _dirty_ — in some time…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beloved [spacehussy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacehussy/pseuds/spacehussy) for giving me valuable feedback on this chapter. All mistakes are my own!

_xx_

Loki had never considered himself a romantic.

He’d long eschewed the sweet relationship gestures others seemed to thrive upon; the classic tropes they found so necessary to their happiness. His darker tastes, the independence he treasured, the variety he craved— all marked him as a man far more compatible with a life of purposeful solitude than that of constant, clinging companionship.

Until today, he’d not been nearly so reckless in his thirties as he had in the decade prior. At a certain point in his wayward youth, he’d learned to _negotiate_ ; to take his time to calculate and assess rather than dive headlong into bad situations and fall into bed with inadvisable people, relying overmuch on his ability to sweet-talk his way back out.

Loki had long known how to use his words to get what he wanted, but there were some exclusive spaces, he’d discovered, to which mere garden-variety manipulation wouldn’t gain him entry. (And might, in fact, bar him from it.) 

There, he had found a world where his talents were given discipline and structure, and with that structure came unexpected fulfillment. He no longer had to fear not getting what he was after; every player’s expectations were laid bare, after all. His mind and his tongue could then be turned to better, far more interesting purpose.

Once his boyish arrogance and insecurity had been brought to heel, Loki had found he rather liked being on either end of the whip, metaphorical or otherwise. He’d soon discovered he could be many things for many people; firm and creative enough to coax a shy creature out of their shell, or else put a playful brat in their rightful place. Other times he could be willful and proud; just yielding enough to give a would-be captor a run for their money. Enough to make their blood pump faster at the prospect of taming him, if only for a night.

He was a sensuous man and reacted to every situation anew, for within him he held an instrument most finely attuned to all the delicate signals— verbal, physical, chemical, visual— which might reveal to him his place in the proceedings. It was a dance he enjoyed almost as much as the sex itself. Indeed, sometimes there was no fucking at all, save that which occurred in the space between egos.

Loki found it grounded him, strangely; this act of taking on different aspects every time. Kept him from feeling trapped, for he could always escape by donning a new guise. He was ever teasing, prodding, testing to discover the soft places where he slip through into something unknown, something transcendent. See how far he could push himself in each scenario, whether it was a play for power or a delicious struggle to resist giving into it. Creating complex knots within knots until he was bound in an ecstasy far more exquisite than any physical act alone could achieve.

Sometimes he even found someone else capable, for a time, in reducing him to a nearly broken thing; in pushing him to beg and plead for mercy he desperately hoped not to get; in taking him to terrifying heights and depths hitherto unmatched. And he thus savored all the more every quiver, every teardrop, every act of surrender when it was him cradling another’s most delicate, vulnerable pieces in his hands. He knew what it was to have your chest cracked open and all your gleaming, heaving viscera exposed, to go beyond yourself— only to feel, at last, a soft caress bringing you back into your body, gently folding you back into yourself until you were once again whole, albeit changed.

Svad had been one of those rarities. 

It was a far too brief but brilliant stint in Loki’s late twenties— the older man’s American visa had unfortunately run out only a few months into their affiliation. Loki had known the situation going in, with plenty of fair warning that it would not last; but to know Svad was to risk nearly anything for him. Acknowledging it had been his own foolish choice didn’t make the parting any easier. Somehow, he hadn’t anticipated the other man’s sudden absence to affect him so greatly— at least, he told himself as much. 

Loki sometimes suspected he’d known all along it would wound and gone for it _because_ of that instinct— that he’d subconsciously sought to martyr himself for some uncertain cause. Years later, the truth of the situation was like oil upon water; he questioned if he was merely trying to cobble sense of it after the fact. Revisiting his memories too many times until they became more a product of his present than an artifact of his past…

It was the last time Loki had thrown himself headlong without considering the consequences. He’d become a wiser man in the interim. (Although as of today, he now had his doubts…)

Needless to say, he hadn’t quite mustered up the nerve to drop Svad a line the last time he was passing through Bergen, though he’d known the invitation still stood. He was sometimes taken by a strong, inexplicable aversion to revisiting the past, especially when certain, broad-shouldered embodiments of it lingered in the strange, liminal space of an intimate acquaintance with chest-cracking, viscera-revealing qualities. 

Better a wound imperfectly healed than a balm and a suture too late.

And anyway— these days, things were different. 

Loki had been plenty busy in graduate school, and then fiendishly occupied with pursuing his PhD, but somehow he’d always found time to give himself over to his needs— if only once a week, or once a month. And then… Svad.

He didn’t like to tie it to that particular incident, for he’d never sworn off taking another lover, nothing so petty as that. He’d had plenty other good experiences following. And he wasn’t resentful; these things happened all the time. But over the past several years, although the nature of his desires hadn’t changed, Loki could admit that he’d slowly allowed that particular allowance— the shared, communal aspect— to fall by the wayside. It wasn’t that his professorial life couldn’t allow for a reasonable measure of indulgence in his sex life; Thor had been right to suspect he simply hadn’t allotted the time or energy for it. 

Loki was simply not a man to sit idle. And the last several years had changed him. With his teaching load and the demands of quickly rising to department chair, his burgeoning career developments and consulting opportunities, his translation and book projects to manage—not to mention the somewhat unexpected success of his damned video channel—he found he now had little time or desire for outside commitments. 

Oh, he knew it wasn’t healthy, not in the traditional sense, but the satisfaction he got from his work was a constant joy and motivation. Equally motivating but less joyful was the sense that it might all topple down around his ears if he stopped moving for too long.

Moving here had been the nail in the coffin. It had been four years now, and despite his initial good intentions, Loki still hadn’t made any moves to ingratiate himself into the local scene. He’d finally stopped making false promises to himself; there wasn’t any point. His focus now was on his career— his asceticism had come to provide its own strange pleasures.

Thankfully, Loki still had one occasional release valve; for he’d found a particular advantage in attending conferences in foreign cities. There would always be a few attractive people of intellect who were, like him, far too married to their research— too caught up in their own minds— to linger overlong in the world of the flesh. And thus, like him, they had no expectations. No desire to nurture some futile, lingering connection. Straight and to the point.

His usual approach: find a man, or the occasional woman, with whom to trade sly glances and casual observations throughout the morning and afternoon events— either in the crowd or sitting next to him on a panel. Single out one who could continue to hold his interest throughout the evening with clever, cutting remarks over strong, bitter aperitifs, chosen carefully to whet their appetites. 

From there, accelerate quickly to fucking in his temporary bedmate’s hotel room; ideally rough and sharp-edged, safeword at the ready. Make do with belts and ties to bind wrists and ankles, unless he or his paramour for the evening had something more suitable at hand. If there was a taste of his preferred mindgames or power play or creatively cruel dirty talk, so much the better. And always, that sweet negotiation to see if he would take or be taken; if he would be given control, or surrender it willingly.

And finally, when all parties were well and truly sated, all that remained was to clean up and thank them before politely excusing himself to slip back to his own room. Shower first, then a glass of wine or scotch to accompany him as he spent the rest of the night buried in research or preparing for a lecture, burning with renewed vigor. 

True, it wasn’t all lurking shadows and anonymity. There were some recurring characters; a precious few who Loki wouldn't hesitate to email or text or approach at the hotel bar with a light hand upon their shoulder and a smile upon his lips. 

Fandral, an old Eton friend whose ineffable charm made him one of the few Loki could actually laugh in bed with, even if his tastes ran to the slightly more vanilla. 

Natasha, a former colleague at Cambridge with impressively cruel and nimble hands; a dancer turned academic who could do things with her hips (and the cock mounted upon them) which Loki had yet to see the equal of. 

Steve and James, a couple he’d met on holiday in Majorca who occasionally crossed his orbit during his summer travels— they were warm and clever, delightfully foul-mouthed, and plenty rough and downright dirty enough to satisfy. The memories of being shared between them last June in their Brooklyn flat were still enough to rouse him within moments. 

Yet most of his encounters remained mere cameos, and Loki liked it that way. He didn't want to be burdened with consideration of their lives beyond those fleeting moments of pleasure, of mystery, of release. And thankfully, the feeling was typically mutual.

Still, while he was no stranger to breaking certain varieties of taboo, it was unusual for Loki to be entertaining fucking a student. He’d never come even close to it before; he valued his career beyond all else. The element of risk wasn’t even enticing, not when the reward was sleeping with someone too young and wet behind the ears to possibly give him what he was after.

It was beyond foolish, beyond asinine for him to be considering such things now. Even if Thor was very nearly graduated, he’d evidently spent six semesters idolizing Loki and now held entirely too much enthusiasm and interest in cracking him open— not merely in the context of the bedroom, he could see that clear as day. Loki could admit he had already spectacularly failed to set appropriate boundaries— both before Thor had touched him, and during, and after.

But still, it wasn’t too late for... well. Some of that.

Loki had idly wondered, back when he’d still allowed himself to dwell on such things, how Thor might be in bed— and it was gratifying to see that he’d been right to think the boy was versatile, like him. Pulling his hair had been a final test, just a bit of fun, but by that point Thor had already made it more than evident that he could push where Loki hesitated and obey when Loki was firm. He already knew the basic steps to the dance, even if he wasn’t entirely aware of it. He wanted to be dominant and he was certainly brave and bold enough, but his foremost thoughts were for Loki’s pleasure— intriguingly self-denying. 

If Loki hadn’t known him as well as he did, he might think it was simply the pretense of a young man momentarily putting his best foot forward; but he _did_ know Thor, it had to be admitted, and it aligned with what he had experienced of the boy’s character.

Loki would be the first to admit he rather enjoyed a service top— and perhaps that little insight into Thor’s desires explained some of the energy that had long hummed between the two of them. They had a natural push and pull, an instinctive ebb and flow. 

It’s not that Loki had been oblivious and was only now waking up to the potential; rather, he hadn’t allowed himself to entertain foolish notions about how their dynamic might be applied beyond the classroom setting. Notions that were _still_ foolish, whatever recent events tried to suggest. 

He’d still allowed himself to look, however, and that had been his greatest mistake; because Thor had known he was being watched, and had craved it, and taken it as a sign to push further at the precise moment he knew Loki would be most tempted to give in.

He could admit, the dynamic was intriguing— if Thor had never approached him, Loki would in time have forgotten him, surely. Just another pretty face lost to the years. But he had approached, and he’d done it with purpose and integrity, and it had changed everything; Loki’s estimation of him, not the least. It made it much more difficult to deny his other qualities Loki found appealing, it leant new color and nuance to his appeal. Loki found himself torn between the sensible path, which had up until now been far easier to walk, and the path he knew would lead him into the jaws of a monster of his own making.

Thor saw him as a successful man who just needed a chance to burn off some steam, and he wanted to be the one Loki burned. No doubt Loki’s position of power over him was a large part of the appeal: beneath the bravado, despite his youthful arrogance in thinking he could deliver Loki from himself… Thor clearly wanted to be wanted. Craved Loki’s authority, desired to be ordered around as much as anything else. Wanted to kneel at Loki’s feet and press his face close and shiver as Loki said terrible things to him, as Loki praised him. 

Thor wanted to be _good_ for him, and Loki had few doubts that Thor would be willing to learn all the ways in which he could please him.

Fuck. 

He shouldn’t indulge either of them in this. There were plenty of reasons not to dabble with a boy that young, and the fact that Thor had been nursing a crush since he was barely legal wasn’t the half of it. He didn’t need to deal with the immaturity, the impulsiveness; never mind that it would be cruel of him to allow Thor to think there was any chance for more than… whatever this was.

Still, Loki had to admit— he hadn’t been intrigued by someone like this in years. And he’d yet to find such a puzzle he didn’t want to solve. Certainly, they could negotiate all the rest. If Thor couldn’t bring himself to understand, then that was that… but his raw potential; how he’d pushed Loki so wonderfully, then yielded so generously to him. The lengths to which he’d gone to craft his seduction to something he felt Loki would appreciate. The sheer audaciousness of kissing Loki and touching him, of kneeling before him and saying he could read him— and worse, being able to back it up. 

Of not being entirely wrong that it had been so very long since Loki had anything truly _interesting_ , anyone intriguing and determined enough to challenge him in such a way. Anyone bold enough to see him and tell him _they_ were the answer to the questions he hadn’t been meaning to ask, and equally bold enough to submit to him in the same breath. Thor had bared plenty of himself, whether he knew it or not, as if he’d known that it wasn’t enough to bully Loki into it; he’d known he had to offer himself up, present a tender bit of neck to bite as well. He wanted the push and pull every bit as much as Loki did… 

Oh… it was horribly, _gorgeously_ tempting.

Loki finally gave in and opened the photo Thor had sent him. His mouth instantly went dry. Perhaps it _was_ time to live a bit more dangerously.

 

Maybe: Thor Odinson

_Thanks for the study session…_

 

Loki shifted in his seat.

Thor must live close to campus, because he was wearing today’s outfit and he already appeared to be in a bedroom. The picture was taken from his perspective— he was laid on his back with that pink, flimsy excuse for a top rucked up high enough to reveal a broad expanse of toned, tanned chest. His nipples were hardened to delicious peaks, framed by a smattering of dark blonde chest hair which appeared to gather in the dip of his sternum before trailing down the centre of his abdomen.

Even in the foreshortened angle, his stomach was an appealing field of sloping muscle; just a hint of youthful softness to suggest how pleasing he’d be to touch. He had a gorgeous trail of hair below his navel leading to the base of his cock— all nicely trimmed, which Loki appreciated— with pubic hair some few shades darker than the dirty blonde Loki had just tangled his fingers through, not thirty minutes ago. 

Thor’s visible hand gripped his impressive girth, his cock appealingly flushed and shining wet at the tip. Oh, to have that delicious weight on his tongue right now… to taste him and trace his tongue around the head until Thor made helpless noises for him…

Loki felt a flush of arousal hot in his face and his own cock gave an interested twitch, despite having already been well-sated. So much for his usual refractory period. Something about this boy was well and truly getting under his skin. 

He found himself replying before he could think better of it.

 

 _LL: Have you already come?_

 

His text was seen almost immediately, the ellipsis showing Thor was typing quick to pop up. Loki felt a delicious tension at the base of his throat, humming in his chest. He hadn’t felt this exhilarated— this _dirty_ — in some time… And sure, he could stop, but now that Thor wasn’t on the premises, it was all too easy. The thrill of the unknown mingled with the desire to test his extant theories about the boy.

 

_TO: Not yet_  
_TO: Came close a few times but I'm makin it last_  
_TO: Feel like sending some inspiratin? ;)_  
_TO: *inspiration?_  
_TO: Texting with one hand is a real bitch_  


 

Loki couldn’t help but laugh, even as he felt his heartbeat quicken. 

God, so Thor _was_ into edge play. Remarkable for a boy of his age. No wonder then that he hadn’t looked too terribly put out when he’d left with an erection still visible in his shorts. He’d known he was going to go home and draw it out, make it last. Loki chewed his lower lip for a moment. Glanced at the door, then at his laptop, then back to Thor’s text. 

Oh, hell. He definitely wasn't going to be getting any more work done. Open hours were nearly over, anyway. The only reason anyone else would come in today would be to complain about grades, and frankly, Loki could think of better ways to torment himself.

 

_LL: That depends. How nicely will you ask for it?_

 

A few seconds.

 

_TO: Very nicely  
TO: Gonna make me beg?_

_LL: You already know the answer to that question._

_TO: Yeah?_  
_TO: God I cant stop thinkig how good ou looked when I was sucking you_  
_TO: I can still taste you_

_TO: Please loki  
TO: Can I see you?_

 

Loki found himself shifting in his seat again, his cock beginning to swell once more. Damn it. Damn this boy. He didn’t know what was worse— being addressed by his first name or his title.

 

_LL: You liked swallowing me down, did you?_  
_LL: You certainly have a mouth made for sucking cock._  
_LL: And I confess, you do look very natural on your knees._

 

He was definitely going to live to regret this.

 

_TO: Fuck loki_  
_TO: Ur killing me_  
_TO: Have mercy_

_LL: Is mercy really what you want?_

_TO: You know it isn’t_  
_TO: Unless mercy is code for a pic ;)_  
_TO: Doesnt have to be dirty_  
_TO: Your neck, your hand, yr ankle_  
_TO: Please_  
_TO: I want to see you_

____

 

Loki was torn. Once there was photographic evidence in Thor’s hands, however benign, there was the real potential for this to backfire. Even though he didn’t truly think Thor would purposefully endanger his career, it was simply one more element out of Loki’s control. However… a terrible alternative came to mind. 

Loki hesitated, but watched himself type it anyway.

 

_LL: I have a better idea._  
_LL: Give me a few minutes and I’ll call you._  


_TO: Oh fuck_

_LL: If you think you deserve it?_

_TO: Yes_  
_TO: Please_  
_TO: God I’ll do whatevr u want_

 

It amused Loki to see Thor this needy after his bravado earlier. Oh, it would be so very interesting to discover his limits. And it was nice to feel he had the upper hand once more— though a part of him wondered if Thor wasn’t every bit as aware of the shift in dynamic. If it was as intentional as his initial push. 

Regardless. He had made a promise, hadn’t he? 

Loki stood and pocketed his phone with oddly shaking hands. He collected his laptop and shoulder bag and turned off the lights— only last-minute remembering to retrieve his blazer from its hanger on the coat rack. Folding it over his arm, for the evening was still warm and he had a burgeoning semi to conceal, Loki locked up quickly, walking with purpose down the corridor. Mercifully, nobody stopped him— only the janitor gave him a slight head nod, which he absently returned.

It was only a manner of minutes before he was sliding into his BMW, depositing his shoulder bag onto the passenger seat and leaving his blazer on his lap, exhaling long and low to steady himself. 

Why had he agreed to this? No, not even agreed— _volunteered_.

He’d had plenty of phone sex. That was far from the issue. It was the tremor in his hands that worried him. The notion that he might be enjoying this a little too much; that perhaps, he was getting in over his head. Was he simply weak? Or desperate? Or— 

His phone buzzed. A new text from Thor. 

Another photo? No— a short video. Loki held his breath as he played it.

It was from the same angle as the photo. Thor’s well-defined chest had deepened in color to a rosy pink, rising and falling in the breathy tempo of arousal. Loki watched, rapt, as his cock dripped clear and sticky onto his toned lower abdomen, adding to the small pool already there. 

He looked hard as a rock, the head flushed darker than in the photo— which now seemed unbelievably tame in comparison. Watching his stomach muscles undulate with the slow rotation of his hips was sheer pornography all its own. Thor squeezed and stroked himself, once, twice, and Loki watched his dick strain and twitch in his grasp, another pearlescent bead leaking from his slit.

It was _appalling_ how much Loki wanted him. 

“God, Loki… I’m so fucking hard for you,” Thor groaned from behind the camera. “You got me so fucking wet.” And then his hand released his cock to run two fingertips through the mess on his stomach, and then— _oh_. 

Thor inverted the camera so Loki could see his flushed face, his eyes bright as he stuck his fingertips in his mouth and sucked. Loki groaned under his breath at the same time Thor did in the video, and then the boy had the nerve to pull his fingers out with a soft noise and a wink. A second later, the picture shook and cut out.

Loki exhaled slowly, staring at the first blurry frame with the play button superimposed. He pressed it, watched Thor tease him a second time. And then a third, before he forced himself to thumb over to Thor’s contact info.

He was definitely coming back to that later.

But now… he had a call to make.

_xx_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come rave about Thorki with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/seidrade) <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hello, Thor,” came the rich purr, only slightly flattened by the phone's acoustics.
> 
> Thor held back a groan. Fuck.
> 
> “Hey,” he managed, almost wincing at how wanton even that single word sounded. “This is a... pretty nice plot twist.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now... we meet the boy.
> 
> All mistakes are mine.

_xx_

Thor waited anxiously after pressing ‘send’ on the video, wondering if he was going a step too far.

The lingering taste of Loki in his mouth suggested otherwise, but it occurred to him he’d only delayed Loki’s call— now he’d have to wait impatiently, so hard he was leaking, while his professor watched the video. It felt, absurdly, like he was waiting for a grade. Thor huffed a laugh at the thought, trying to shake off his nerves. No assignment had ever gotten him half this wound up.

God, he’d really just sent that. Fuck. He felt tingly, like his whole body was on the verge; of what, he wasn’t entirely certain.

Thor groaned, putting his phone down for a second and running a hand over his face. He hoped Loki liked it— kept half-expecting him to suddenly shut down and call the whole thing off, but he knew the more confident he remained, the better he stuck the landing, the more likely Loki would answer in kind. After all, Loki had never been shy about voicing his support for those who risked their reputations in the face of opposition and social taboo. 

And really, what was the harm. Grades were submitted, commencement was in a week, he wasn’t being taken advantage of. He was an adult and he could make his own decisions. Loki had to know he wouldn’t turn on him or betray his confidence. 

The fact he’d already trusted Thor this far… it was a hell of a rush. 

Thor idly ran his fingertips up and down the underside of his cock, biting his lip and shifting a little in anticipation. 

Honestly, the whole thing was entirely surreal— the knowledge that he’d just sucked off Dr. Loki Laufeyson kept cycling through his mind. Thor had long ceased thinking of him in terms of his title, but crossing the boundary into the physical had somewhat shocked him back into remembering the actual gulf between them— at least in terms of life experience. He addressed Loki as Dr. Laufeyson all the time… but now it was sinking in. What that _meant_. 

He idly wondered if anyone ever called Loki by his title in bed. Part of him wanted to find out what would happen if he did… 

Fuck. It was just too unbelievable. 

The tremor in his chest wasn’t just nerves, no— it was sheer elation. He really hadn’t thought anything would actually come of his after-hours visit. Figured he’d make his confession, Loki would eye-roll and tell him he was an idiot, shoo him out the door, and that would be that. 

He hadn’t expected it to feel like someone had cranked up the tension between them higher and higher until the knob broke right off. Hadn’t expected Loki to look at him so intensely. Hadn’t expected that instead of getting up in Thor’s face and intimidating him out of the door— which, in all honesty, wouldn’t have been too hard to do— Loki would let Thor take as much ground as he had, in Loki’s own office. 

Thor had never seen him yield like that before. 

So he’d followed his gut; the instinct telling him to keep pushing. It was something he wouldn’t normally do, but everything in Loki’s body language seemed to be yearning for it. And fuck, he was selfish maybe, but he couldn’t bring himself to just walk away and pretend he didn’t know that they both fucking wanted it. He wasn't an idiot, he understood why Loki was trying to keep it at bay. But if Loki hadn't even managed to convince himself... was it wrong to push?

He wondered if Loki had realized his tone when he was trying to dissuade Thor was the very same he used to challenge students to push against him— to try and prove his false claims wrong. 

And so Thor had held his ground, had risen to the challenge and Loki had rewarded him for it. Like he was just waiting for Thor to break through the layers of obfuscation. Thor could've wept for joy when Loki decided to take control— when he ordered him on his knees. Goddamn. It had been hot, but it had also been reassuring. A confirmation that he wasn't just being a presumptuous asshole. (Well... at least, not as much of one.)

Thor heaved a long exhale, cupping his balls in one hand, rolling them a little, trying to take off the edge. It felt like he was no longer in control of his hips, the muscles of his ass clenching and unclenching in a bid to try and get some relief.

He honestly wasn’t sure when he’d learned to read Loki so well, but perhaps that was just part and parcel of having an excuse to stare at someone for three years.

Thor just wished he could go back in time and tell his sophomore self that one day, he wouldn’t just be swooning from the second row— he’d be cupping Loki’s firm, cool jaw, drawing him closer and feeling him sigh under his hands. Showing him how much he wanted him. Listening to Loki talk dirty to him in Norwegian— that part had been very unexpected. But that was Loki for you. Thor could read him, perhaps. But predict him? Hardly.

And he had a pretty active imagination, but he was happy to admit its shortcomings when it came to this. 

He couldn’t have properly anticipated the taste of Loki, nor the weight of that thick cock heavy on his tongue, filling his throat — and god, the scent of him. The feel of his body under Thor’s hands— his trim waist, his oh-so-squeezable ass. The torn look in his keen, discerning eyes, debating whether to give in but so clearly wanting to. Finally letting his guard down just enough for Thor to slip past his defenses; giving him a chance to prove that this could be good.

For a brief moment, Thor had been _inside_ him.

He couldn’t help but squeeze himself a little firmer, teasing, not giving into what he wanted. Not yet. He wanted to hear Loki’s voice when he came. Because Loki wanted to call him. Wanted to listen to him. Wanted Thor to come over to his place. Probably wanted him to come lots of places…

He was under no illusions— he wouldn't ever have been allowed to cup Loki’s face and murmur his intentions, much less suck his cock, if Loki hadn't decided he was worthy of it. And wasn’t that a thrilling thought? That the strange, subtle chemistry between them really hadn’t been a product of his wishful imagination. But chemistry or no, he could never have anticipated things going this far, this quick.

That thought gave him pause.

What if Loki’s unusual agreeability really _was_ just due to Thor being a convenient body— but no, he remembered the shock on Loki’s face when he’d first stepped in close and touched him. How turned-on he’d looked, how his eyes instantly dilated. It was burned into Thor’s mind. Not to mention the way he’d looked at Thor after he’d recited those lines he’d altered. Like Loki was seeing something new in him, something he wasn’t sure how to comprehend— but he’d looked flattered. Pleased. Touched, even?

Thor groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose and flexing the muscles in his hips. Maybe he shouldn’t be so worried about the video— maybe the poem was the moment he’d gone too far. Showed too much of his hand, too eager probably… fuck. He still didn’t know how he’d managed to say all those things to Loki. How he’d even remotely remembered the correct pronunciation. 

Just pure adrenaline and the foolish confidence of a horny idiot damn near in love with his— 

Thor startled as his phone began to vibrate on his chest. Thor fumbled for it, a thrill lancing through him to see Loki’s name on the screen. He sucked in a breath, cock jerking in anticipation, then thumbed the green icon.

 

“Hello, Thor,” came the rich purr, only slightly flattened by the phone's acoustics.

Thor held back a groan. Fuck.

“Hey,” he managed, almost wincing at how wanton even that single word sounded. “This is a... pretty nice plot twist.”

“I endeavor to be entertainingly unpredictable,” Loki retorted, a dark hint of laughter chasing his words. But then he said no more, letting silence stretch between them, and Thor itched to fill it.

“So you got my video?” He asked, kicking himself as he said it. Horniness was clearly making him stupid. He shifted to better hold the phone with one hand, just barely playing with himself with the other. 

“I did,” Loki answered, carefully. “You ought to know better than to send me things like that.”

_Christ, that voice. He’d let Loki scold him all day…_

“I’ll take that to mean you liked it, then,” Thor teased, feeling some of his mojo return. They’d always had good rapport; Loki _liked_ him. Obviously wouldn’t be doing any of this if that weren’t the case. He just had to remember that he held some of the cards, too.

“Little ver-gjǫrn svinne,” Loki murmured, sounding almost fond, and Thor's thighs and ass clenched with arousal, his hips rocking of their own accord. _Cock-craving boy._

“Yeah, well, I'm not mad for just _any_ cock,” Thor breathed. “I have pretty particular tastes.” When Loki didn't reply right away, he felt the urge to ask, “Where are you, anyway?”

“In my car.”

“You’re driving?”

“No. Sitting in the parking lot on campus. I fear I would make for a rather distracted driver.”

Thor let out a low hum at that. Had he driven Loki to leave his office early? The thought was a good one. “You don’t have a Bluetooth? After all that time you spent lecturing on him?”

Loki gave a short laugh. “I do, but I don’t imagine it would address the entirety of the issue.”

“…are you hard again?” Thor asked, daring to tease his cock just a little more. 

A dry scoff. “What do you think.”

“Signs pointing to… yes?”

“Mm.” His response was low and rough and deliciously warm. “And who do you suppose I have to thank for that?”

“I accept your gratitude,” Thor quipped, thrilled by the depth of feeling in that single sentence. He couldn’t help feeling warm when he got a laugh for his efforts. 

“My, you're an insolent one, aren't you?” Loki’s tone was slipping back toward flirtatious, even predatory, which Thor was all too eager to encourage. “Some might say arrogant.”

“Most people call me ‘charming,’ but you can call me whatever you want.”

A soft whuff of laughter. “I’ll be very sure to remember that, though you may come to regret it.” 

Oh, fuck. Okay, _that_ was flirting. Thor was going to die a thousand glorious deaths before the day was over. 

“Now… weren't you in the middle of something?”

Thor sucked in a breath, feeling a flush of arousal hit his cheeks and chest once more. “Yeah,” he breathed, as steady as he could manage. “I was just remembering how good you tasted.”

“Hm. You don't say.”

Emboldened, Thor soldiered on. “God, I just wanna eat you out,” he confessed, squeezing the base of his cock to keep from coming right then and there. “I’d spend all night going down on you, if you let me.”

“Well, isn't that a generous offer,” Loki mused in a wry tone. “How very _selfless_ of you.”

Thor thrilled to the game. “Tell me what you want to do to me on Friday,” he challenged, allowing himself to be forward. “You’re the one who called me and invited me over, after all.”

“I did, didn’t I…” Loki trailed off, then went silent for a long moment. Thor tried to keep his breathing from carrying over the line, but he was sure Loki would know regardless how the tension was getting to him.

“I would be very tempted to bend you over my sofa,” Loki began, slowly. Considering his words. “Bind your wrists and touch you soft and teasing until you were rutting against the leather, begging for me to put something inside you.”

“Nnngh,” was all Thor could manage, his hips shuddering. Jesus christ.

“How hard do you want it?” Loki murmured. “Because I warn you, I prefer things a bit… rough. I like a little pain with my pleasure.”

“Yeah?” Thor breathed, thrilled to think some of his guesses— not to mention his fantasies— might not have been too off base. “Tell me.”

“I saw how you liked it when I pulled your hair,” Loki mused, a wicked grin in his voice. His words flowed without hesitation now, just like when he hit his stride in the middle of a lecture. “I’d love to get a good handful, make you arch your back and press against me. I’d hold you down and smack that arse of yours till it's hot to the touch. Get that lovely, thick cock wet enough to drip all down your legs.”

“Oh, fuck…” Thor couldn't help a moan, mind racing at the possibilities. “Yes. _Please_.”

“And there’d be no touching yourself, not with your hands bound behind your back,” Loki’s voice was crushed velvet in his ear. “You’d just have to lay there with your legs spread like a debauched, little thing and ache for it with no relief.”

“Fuck, Loki,” Thor sighed in happy agony, writhing on the bed. His cock was dripping all over his knuckles now and he groaned. “You're killing me.”

“Oh, don’t fret… I wouldn't leave you there for _too_ long.” He could almost hear Loki’s smirk. “We wouldn’t want you to be completely wrecked the next day, would we?” The amusement in his voice implied otherwise.

Thor exhaled shakily through his nose. 

“If it meant you were going to keep me busy all night, then I wouldn’t mind…”

He could hear Loki’s grin. 

“Perhaps I’d just take you to the very edge with my mouth and fingers. Get you nice and close, then pull away before you could reach completion. You’d like that, I have a feeling.”

“Loki…” Thor’s head was swimming and his cock was throbbing. “Oh god. Ohhhh god.”

“I’d edge you with my fingers inside you, keep you right on the brink,” Loki was almost musing to himself. “See how desperate we could get you. See how pink we could make your pretty face blush.”

Thor groaned, squeezing the base of his cock. He wanted to come so badly, but he didn’t want Loki to stop talking to him. God, this was already torturous and he wanted more, so much more.

“You need to come so badly— don’t you, Thor?” Loki purred, and Thor made a pathetic noise in response.

“Loki, please.”

“Mm. Perhaps we should make you wait until Friday.” 

Two whole days away. Thor groaned. 

“I’d die first,” he muttered, flexing his ass and his thighs to try and alleviate some of the pressure, but his balls felt so heavy and full; he was wound so tight, needed it so bad. 

“Well, we can’t have that,” Loki sounded amused and god, his voice—  Thor swore not for the first time that he could come from that voice alone. “Are you touching yourself?”

Thor took his hand off his cock, warily, not sure what was the right answer. “I could be,” he ventured.

Loki gave a genuine laugh, seeming almost surprised. He collected himself after a moment, clearing his throat. 

“Tell me one of your fantasies about me and I’ll let you come.”

Such a simple statement, yet Thor's heart was suddenly pounding in his ears at the casual possession in it, the sheer cockiness; how certain Loki was that he would be obeyed. _Fuck._

“I—” 

Thor found himself suddenly shy, had to force himself to continue. He couldn't wimp out now, not when Loki was finally interested— was literally making Thor's most feverish dreams come true.

“I’ve always imagined you fucking me across your desk during a lecture,” he said, confessing the first fairly-tame scenario that came to mind. His hand hovered near his dick, wanting to touch so badly. “Just bending me over and shoving your cock in me, nice and rough, so everyone could see…”

“Why would you want everyone to see,” Loki asked, intently. There was no mistaking the arousal in his voice. 

“Because.” Thor’s face heated up. “I’d… I’d want them all to know how goddamn good you're giving it to me.” He had just enough presence of mind to keep other certain details to himself— how he wanted Loki to completely own his ass, to fuck him hard and possessive. For everyone to know that Loki chose _Thor_ when he could’ve had anyone in that room. For them all to know how bad he wanted it. 

How _good_ he could be.

“So when I guessed earlier that you'd let me spread you out on my desk…”

“Yes. Fuck yes,” Thor felt like he was losing his goddamn mind. So much for playing it cool, he vaguely bemoaned. “You have no idea…”

“Well… it’s a good thing you got to class so early, Mr. Odinson. I’m tempted to shove all these papers to the floor and throw you down right now, before everyone else arrives,” Loki all but whispered, low and throaty. “We’ll have to be quick.”

Thor was in agony, realizing Loki was _roleplaying_ for him without even being asked. God, what had he done so right in his life as to deserve this?

“Do whatever you want with me,” Thor forced out, daring to wade into unfamiliar waters. “I’m yours for the taking.”

“Mm. What an eager plaything you are,” Loki murmured, and Thor could hear a slight rustle. “I’m pushing you in front of me, bending you over my desk. Rucking your shirt up and pulling your pants down so I can slide my cock between the cheeks of your gorgeous arse. It's so difficult not to just take you outright.”

“Do it,” pleaded Thor, writhing on his bed. “Please, Professor.”

There was a sharp inhale, audible even through the phone, followed by a pause and then a slower exhale. Guess that answered _that_ question, Thor thought; secretly thrilled he’d been right.

“I’m slicking you up with my fingers,” Loki continued after a moment, throaty and low. “Pushing the first one inside you. Opening you up. Mm, you’re so tight for me, aren’t you?”

“God, fuck yes.” Thor licked his lips, trying to steady his breathing, but he was so turned on it was nearly painful, just teetering at the brink. “Give me more.”

“I’m adding a second finger, stretching you so well. Getting you nice and wet and hungry for me,” Loki murmured, almost soothing. “And then you’ll be ready for my cock, won’t you, sweet boy?”

“Professor,” Thor breathed again. “Please. Fuck me.” He wrapped his hand around his dick and tried not to make a pathetic noise at the sharp spasm of pleasure that wracked him. 

“I’m slicking myself up,” Loki's near-whisper was intensely arousing; all the deadly focus that Thor always found so attractive now being directed solely at himself. “I’m running the head of my cock over your sweet little hole, trying to decide if you've earned it yet.”

“Goddamnit,” Thor's voice cracked. “Fuck me, now. _Please_.”

“Greedy,” Loki scolded but there was no force in it.

“You love it,” Thor shot back, daring to get feisty as he slowly fucked into his fist. “I’m already begging, what more do you _want_?”

“You shouldn’t ask me that,” Loki said in a warning tone, and there was something strange, even despairing in it. Something that made Thor’s mind run wild, conjuring filthy images that almost had him coming then and there.

“Then _please_ ,” Thor begged once more, weak, feeling like he’d lost that round without even knowing why— but he just wanted so badly to hear Loki describe fucking him, he was losing his goddamn mind. 

“I’m pushing forward, sinking my cock deep inside you,” Loki said, breathlessly, and then he moaned, a low and beautifully arousing noise. A whimper fought its way out of Thor's throat in answer. “Oh yes, you lovely thing— fuck _me_ , you're so bloody tight.”

“Oh fuck,” groaned Thor, delirious. “Please, Dr. Laufeyson, fuck…” He honestly had no idea what else to say in response, his mind stupid with sex, but thankfully Loki didn't seem to mind.

“I'm fucking you good and hard,” Loki’s voice was rough, and Thor imagined Loki sitting in his car, pressing the heel of his hand against his straining cock and whispering filth into his phone. “Making the desk rattle and shake. Making that gorgeous arse of yours bounce against my cock. Ohh, yes, I’m gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as I fuck into you. You moan so beautifully for me.”

Thor whimpered, right on cue. He stopped moving his hand, just squeezed his cock hard at the base. He couldn’t come yet, not yet, not yet. Not until Loki said so.

“And everyone's watching, Thor. The entire class is filing in, walking right past the desk that I’ve got you bent and whimpering over. They’re all staring in awe, filled with lust at how wanton and filthy you are. Seeing how good you’re taking every last inch. It’s all being projected right up onto the screen so there can be no doubt: they all know exactly what I'm doing to you. They know exactly what a gorgeous little cockslut you are for me.”

“Professor. _Loki_ ,” Thor realized he was all but weeping, unable to hold back. “ _Please_ ,” he choked out. “Let me. Fuck, I need it, I— fuck—”

“Yes, you've been so good. Share with the class, Thor. Let them see you come for me,” Loki purred. And there was perhaps a desperate note in it, but Thor didn't notice anything else because almost as soon as he moved the hand on his cock, he was coming so hard it took his breath away.

He gave a hoarse, strangled shout, any words he might’ve said abandoned as his cock throbbed hot and strong— he could feel come splatter over his shoulder and throat. It felt like riding one huge wave and then crashing hard beneath the surf— everything beyond his body reduced to white noise.

He eventually registered a low, soft noise through his haze. It was Loki making a pleased hum, he realized.

“That's it,” Loki said, soothing. “You came so beautifully, Thor. I’m impressed you held out for so long.”

Thor make a weak noise in response, his head lolling against his pillow— which he now realized was covered in sweat, as were the sheets below. A part of him thrilled at the praise but a larger part was too spent to even process anything aside from the pleasure that warmed him from head to toe. No more tension wracking his body, just a golden wash of bliss.

“Mmm,” he said, trying to make his mouth work again. “Think you might've actually killed me.”

It wasn't much of an exaggeration. He couldn't recall having been that worked up in years. If… if ever?

“Well, perhaps we’ll be calling in a double homicide tonight,” Loki said offhand, as if he hadn’t just thoroughly wrecked every last fiber of Thor’s being. Still, the arousal in his voice was evident, and his words were intriguing…

Thor's interest was piqued once more, despite being thoroughly drained after the intensity of his orgasm and all the tension of the afternoon. It’d been all he could think about for the last 48 hours and he was still humming.

“Yeah?” He sat up slightly, absently rummaging for a towel to wipe his chest with. His limbs felt loose and uncoordinated, almost as if Loki really had fucked the brains out of him. “Can I… uh, can I help you with that?” 

The thought of having proper phone sex was somehow far more intimidating than just telling someone how much you wanted to fuck them— but for Loki, he’d try just about anything.

Loki scoffed. “Even if you still had the mental wherewithal, I’m not going to actually wank in my car in the faculty parking lot in broad daylight. There are limits to my risk-taking behaviors, believe it or not.”

“Oh,” Thor said, instantly feeling stupid, cutting right through his glorious afterglow. “Right… kinda forgot about that part.”

Loki laughed, a bright genuine sound, which made him feel a little better. “Don't fret, you've already borne witness to my suffering _la petite mort_ once today, I'm sure you won't be missing much.” He paused, as if perhaps realizing what he was saying. His voice turned less playful. “I should go, however. Plenty else on my plate this evening.”

Thor felt a foolish longing to keep talking, as if the instant Loki hung up, the tenuous connection between them would break and Loki would come to his senses and realize what a big mistake this was.

“Yeah, of course,” he cleared his throat. “I, uh… I don't know what you normally say to someone after you have insanely hot phone sex with them but, uh… thanks for fulfilling one of my most embarrassing fantasies?”

Warmth blossomed in his chest when Loki laughed again— god, what a beautiful laugh. It was one that Thor had so rarely ever heard in class; not a dry or sardonic thing about it. It was giving him goddamn _butterflies_.

“You truly are full of surprises…” Loki mused, voice soft and considered. “At any rate, it was my pleasure. I— ahem. Have a good evening, Thor.”

“You too, Loki. See you Friday,” said Thor, then felt a rush of fear as soon as he did. Maybe that was presumptuous, maybe Loki’d gotten his fill already, what if—

“Friday,” Loki agreed, voice warm, and hung up. 

 

Thor let out a long breath, letting his phone fall to the bed at his side and running a hand over his sweaty hair as he collapsed back down on his pillow, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief. He could still feel his heart in his ears. 

Had that really just happened? It still didn't seem possible. 

The smokin’ hot professor he’d been thirsting after for years. The world renowned linguistics expert whose channel had often kept him up until five am, finally falling asleep to the sounds of his mouth affectionately shaping the harsh consonants and resonant vowels of a long-dead language. The brilliant, clever, passionate, quietly neurotic man he’d not only accepted but gladly engineered a less-than-stellar GPA for. And was maybe, just maybe, more than a little emotionally invested in...

Fuck.

And now he was going over to Loki’s place on Friday. For a real date. 

No, not even a date. For _drinks_. Because of course, Loki wasn't the kind of guy who would refer to his hook-ups as booty calls. He wasn't the type to Netflix and chill. No, he had _drinks_ , and _liaisons_ , and then he would probably follow through on his promise to bend Thor over the sofa and smack his ass and pull his hair and… oh god this wasn't a hypothetical fantasy anymore, this was really going to happen.

Thor sucked in a breath, nerves suddenly gripping him. Since he hadn’t expected Loki to say yes to any of it, and definitely not so quickly, he hadn't fully considered what he would do in this moment.

He chewed his lower lip, wondering if he shouldn't try and prepare a little. He still had the rest of tonight and tomorrow night, after all. He could make it to a sex shop this evening. Get something a little bigger to practice with. Loki wasn’t a small man, and Thor wanted to take all of him. Every last inch.

Thor started at the texture of the ceiling until his eyes went unfocused. He thought again of Loki’s voice. Of how clearly Loki _wanted_ him. How clearly he intended to give Thor everything he’d promised and then some. Just like that.

Thor took a deep inhale and let it out slowly, then finally sat up and looked around his disheveled room, feeling like a changed man.

He could totally do this. 

Couldn't he?

_xx_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the delightful comments so far!  
> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/seidrade) if you want to come wax poetic about Thorki!


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